


Times Like These

by QueenoftheBritons



Series: Arthur's Return [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon Returns (Merlin), Arthur Returns, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Protective Arthur, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:40:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23908627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheBritons/pseuds/QueenoftheBritons
Summary: Arthur returns to Merlin, asking to be reunited with him. As their time together goes on, the world faces a coronavirus  plagues the world and forces them to face their destiny of uniting Albion and magic.
Relationships: Gwaine & Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwaine & Merlin (Merlin), Gwen & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwen & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Arthur's Return [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1723072
Comments: 10
Kudos: 62





	Times Like These

**Author's Note:**

> This is a companion fic to my oneshot When I Come Home, but it doesn't really need to be read to understand this. 
> 
> The song that inspired this is the new Times Like These Hope you enjoy, any comments/kudos are appreciated! :)

_I, I’m a one way motorway_

God knows how long they were there, sat in the grass, unaware of the world around them as they just held each other. Arthur breathed in deeply, inhaling all the smells he could. Briefly, he wondered that on any other day, at any other time, Merlin might have teased him for that. Right now, though, he imagined the suffering warlock was doing the same. He focused only on the feeling of the man’s arms around him, right now, head buried into his neck, as his was in Merlin’s. It felt odd, to feel things properly, but it felt right, it felt _good_.

Merlin’s touch was one thing that would never change to him, and in the time that they had spent apart, those aching years, had done nothing to alter it. He sighed deeply, closing his eyes as he basked in the feeling of purity. He could feel every fibre of Merlin’s body shaking beneath him, trembling as the man sobbed, and he felt his own body shiver. His tears fell, quieter, but he let them fall, as if they proved to him even more that he was here, he was alive. They burned as they streamed down his cheeks, and that strange fresh feeling was something he might never get used to, but would now have the time to. It was all proof to him now, that the gods had not tricked him, but had given him back to _his_ Albion. To his destiny.

The grass was soggy beneath his knees, and felt them aching, burning, having not be used for so long. Having fallen with such a force, just to get to Merlin, to feel him, to make sure he would get back up. It had frightened him for a moment to see him fall, to wonder if he had come back too late, if the warlock had lost the strength Arthur knew he once possessed.

He could feel Merlin’s breath on his neck, coming out in tremors, but the man’s sobs slowed eventually. Neither man moved, though, content for the moment to sit in this awfully uncomfortable position, in case, once they moved away, the other disappeared. Did Merlin share the same fear? It would not surprise him, having seen every step of this man’s unending journey in this unforgiving world.

Moving his hand to cup Merlin’s head, he felt comfortable stroking a thumb in the tufts of raven coloured hair, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly at the hitch of the other man’s breath. The closeness was astounding, and Arthur fully intended of taking every advantage of it, now that he could, now that he was here. He remembered, whispering, pleading to Merlin to hold him as he let go of his final breaths, and now he never wanted to let him go. Now, he wanted to return the favour, and hold on tight to Merlin until the end of time.

_I’m the one that drives away_

Merlin wasn’t sure when he stopped crying, whether due to a calmness settling over him, or simply because his eyes were running dry. Right now, he was aware of only one thing, his brain only capable on focusing on that one thing, that one person, he held in his arms. Very much alive, this time, breathing, crying, _living_. The years came crashing down on him all at once, as he had fallen to the ground, but the tears falling out carried the memories with them, as he only remembered one lifetime, so long ago, but flashing through his mind’s eye as if it were yesterday.

How long had he lived, now? How long had these weary legs carried his weight across the world, searching for something he would never find? Could never find. Now, he was draped in his arms, the energy seeping from him as every life left him, as the anxieties of the moment gave him some respite, to enjoy the moment. To _believe_ , to hope again. His eyes stayed tightly closed, afraid that if he opened them, he would wake in his bed. Would the world be so cruel, to create the image? Perhaps, if he kept his eyes closed, he might never leave.

Feeling a pinch, a digging in of fingers into his body, it was like his mind had been read. Opening his eyes, widely, fearfully, hopefully, he turned them. His king was still in his grasp, and had offered him proof of his existence, but had not moved yet himself. Merlin could hear him breathing deeply, and did the same, finding a comfort in their similar movements.

Giving Arthur a moment, giving himself the time, he was content for a few minutes to stay like this. The wind blowing cold air into his eyes, drying away the tear tracks down his face, refreshing him, reminding him that it was a new day. A _real_ dawn, and not just a fantasy. His heart was pounding, and he wondered if Arthur could feel it through his chest, through his shirt. There was a heat radiating from him, and he felt a warmth enveloping him like nothing ever had.

Then, hesitantly, he pulled away. There was the danger that if he did not do it soon, he never would; it sounded delightful, but he had to see Arthur, for real. He had to speak to him, he had to hear his voice just for a second. To breathe his breath, to fall into the familiarity they had had before everything. Not only that, but if Arthur was here, now, he had questions. 

Arthur watched him pull away, and Merlin saw a fear in his eyes, so grabbed at his hand, providing a weight, a reassurance. As much for his king as himself. Their eyes met, sharing the same gaze with an ease of a couple that had not been separated at all. The sadness, though, dancing in Arthur’s expression, reminded them that they had lived apart, that there were years between them, and there was much to say.

_Then follows you back home_

“We should probably move,” Merlin whispered, but moved his legs to get comfortable.

Arthur smiled fondly, knowing he would never get used to doing so, but would try and do it as often as he could. “And where would we go?”

“I have a house,”

“I would love to see,” he said, sincerely. This house, he had already seen, just as he had watched Merlin live in all of his homes. All usually close to the lake, the warlock refusing to stray far, breaking Arthur’s heart, if he had had one. Now, it was there, beating loudly, getting used to the immediate strain put on it, but he could only be grateful for its presence. There was blood in his body, bones moving him, flesh to be touched. He didn’t know who it was who had granted him his passage to earth, but he would like to offer them all of his thanks.

He was distracted, though, when Merlin’s head ducked, a hysteric laughter, a huff, leaving the man’s throat. Staring at him, he waited for the man to resurface, waiting for him to process his presence. His hand pressed into the one holding it, and Merlin pressed back, eyes following from the touch to the man’s eyes, and Arthur’s heart skipped a beat, waiting still.

“I can’t… I can’t believe it,” the other man hitched forward, but Arthur caught him. He would always catch him, now, whenever he might fall.

“Nor can I,” he admitted, a wistful smile creeping on his face.

“You’re back, and you… you want to see my house?” The laughter came again, panicked, confused.

Arthur brought his other hand to rest on Merlin’s shoulder, to offer another physical reassurance that he was real. To offer proof that he would not move, unless to follow. “I want to see whatever you wish to show me,”

Merlin stared at him, intently, as if searching for a lie. A falsity, a shadow, in case he was not the real man. The man he loved, the man he saved, the man he waited for day after day.

“I am him, Merlin. Please,” his eyes burned into the other man’s, “I am here, now. Do you believe me?”

His breath caught, but his gaze stayed stern, resting on the answer that would leave the man’s mouth.

“Arthur?” He spoke with a hesitance that worried the king.

“Yes, Merlin. Yes.” There was a waver, however hard he tried to cover it, it was there.

Merlin watched him, for less than a moment, before the grin spread across his face, like a sunlight in Arthur’s eyes. “I’ve missed you,” he almost cried, again, so Arthur pressed his hand on his shoulder again firmly.

“You won’t any longer, I’m here. Beside you,”

“Yeah,” Merlin nodded, breathlessly.

“Will you take me? To see your home.”

_I, I’m a streetlight shining_

Merlin was held up by Arthur most of the way, being a terrible guide, a terrible host, to a man just risen from the dead. Still, it seemed that his king did not want to let him go, even if he did not need the assistance. His legs were wobbling beneath him, though, the years, the traumas, catching up to him in a whirlwind, fighting against the happiness overwhelming his old, worn bones.

It was fortunate that the happiness prevailed, because the man he had lived for, had loved with every fibre in his body, was holding him up right now. Guiding him, sometimes in the wrong direction, causing another one of those strange, hysterical laughs to leave him as he redirected them both. It had been so long since he had laughed properly, he wondered if they might sound normal soon. He hoped so, because then the look of concern Arthur wore might fade, allowing him to feel the joy, too.

“It’s lovely,” Arthur breathed in a whoosh, sitting down on the sofa in the small, quaint living room.

It was silly, really, but a burst of pride filled the warlock as the words left him, and he took in his room for himself. Although he had lived in many houses over the years, this was one of his favourites. Nothing too much, because an immortal found little need for material possessions. Still, there was no point in living in a hovel for the rest of his life, he thought, and it was not like he did not keep things over the years. Memorial things, kept in places close to him so that when he felt lost, he might look at them and find some hope.

“Wait here,” he smiled secretively, excitedly, before bounding up the stairs, his legs threatening to give way, but he forced them to refrain for now. Just until he could find what he needed.

Pulling the familiar red from the draw in his room, closest to the bed, he held it close to his nose, breathing in the scent out of habit. Arthur had been buried in one of his cloaks, but Merlin had kept another, an older one from their earlier years together, because it was unfair to have nothing. To have no reminder of a life once lived, once given, beside another he loved.

His king teared up, his eyes catching the unfaded shade of Camelot red, and Merlin’s smile only grew, his own tears threatening to escape again. “You… you kept it?” Arthur’s voice was quiet, shocked.

Merlin didn’t respond, but sat beside him, bodies touching, as he handed the much loved item to Arthur.

“I cannot believe…” he took it, fingers pressing softly into the fabric. “I thought I might have lost so much from Camelot, but…” his eyes caught Merlin’s, unshed tears glistening in the light of the room.

“It’s not everything,” Merlin admitted, apologetically.

Arthur’s eyes widened, “It _is_ more than everything, to me.”

The warlock’s breath hitched, and he wondered if he were not immortal, would his heart have been able to take this? The wave of emotion right now was more than anything he had felt in so many years, too many years.

“ _You_ are everything, to me. There is such a strength in you, and I am glad for it. Glad that I will not walk this new world alone, but with you by my side.”

Merlin choked on the tears, not for the first time that day.

_I’m a wild light blinding bright_

There was a lot to say, a lot to ask, a lot to do. The sun was burning out, though, ducking behind the curving earth, leaving the darkness of the night to take its shift. To offer respite to the star, whilst giving the smaller ones a chance to shine. Merlin lay with Arthur, the grass beneath them prickling, causing discomfort, but the view was too beautiful to move.

Lying here, watching Merlin’s chest rise and fall, and then his own, to make certain for himself, he was content for the moment to allow the questions to go unasked. There was even a calm in his friend, who seemed just as happy to lie here with him, and watch the stars rise in the sky and blink away, allowing others to show their own brightness. Lying, holding hands as if they might never let go, their eyes wandered to the skies to see what little things they could see tonight, what little offerings the gods gave them as they reunited.

There were such things as shooting stars, and watching the sky, Arthur wondered what he could possibly wish for, when right now, he had everything he needed beside him. The moon glistened beautifully in the dark, bigger than he had ever seen it, and he briefly wondered if Merlin’s magic had anything to do with it. Because to see the stars shine in the sky, from the ground, rather than within the clouds themselves, could only be described as magic. 

_Burning off alone_

Merlin lay with his head buried in Arthur’s neck, as they had done in a life lived long ago. Usually, the king slept facing away, finding more comfort that way, but tonight was different. Both of them needed to see each other, the reassurance that when they woke, it would be the other’s face they saw first.

Impossibly, the other man smelt the same, the familiar smell helping Merlin’s heart calm. It would be difficult to sleep tonight, for the both of them, but they would find it eventually, in the arms of the other. Arthur could tell he was struggling, and whispered sweet nothings to him, thinking it would help. Really, though, it just kept him awake, aching to hear the voice he had missed for so long. Every sense in his body longed to experience everything of this man, and now he would not disappoint them, or leave the opportunity missed.

His hands stroked Arthur’s body, roving over it, exploring it as if for the first time, but he had already read the map years ago and new every direction to take. He could feel the other man’s muscles relax underneath his touch, and he wondered, what was it he had suffered in those years away? Had he been fully aware of the time passing? These were the burning questions he had, but for the moment, he was exhausted. There would be a new day he could ask, ask where he was when he needed him, ask what he had seen himself, just ask how he was. His mind conflicted, feeling a need to rush, but also pause to smell the roses. It all felt too good to be true, but how could he pass up the opportunity?

His eyes drooped to a close of their own accord, but he felt the press of Arthur’s lips against his forehead, a tenderness he had sorely missed, along with everything else. Could they slip back into this all again, so easily? Right now, it seemed a pleasant thought to believe that they could. To settle back into an old pattern with each other, even though there were many changes around them, within them, would be perfect, but had there been too many changes? Had he changed too much?

No dreams tormented him that night, no whispers of his name, no memories. It was peaceful, the only restful sleep he had had in many years, feeling the heavy weight of Arthur beside him soothing his beating heart. A happiness spread through his body, granting him this dreamless, perfect sleep for the night, to prepare for a morning with his king, where things would have to be addressed and questioned.

But not tonight. Tonight, he would focus on the feeling of another body beside him, that he was not alone.

_It’s times like these you learn to live again_

“You don’t have questions about this time.” Merlin noted, watching Arthur from across the table.

“No,” the king sighed, believing the time had come for the questions. It would be a long day, but it was a day. A day he was alive. A day he had woken beside Merlin, who had been just as surprised to wake and realise it was no dream. “I recognise it,”

“What do you mean?”

“I have seen everything, Merlin. I don’t know how to explain,” he struggled, running a hand through his hair. The sensation still felt strange to him, but he did not hate it. “I don’t know where I was, but I could see everything. I watched you, in every life you have lived.”

“Oh,” it was a sad whisper, but nothing followed.

Arthur watched intently, seeing different emotions cross Merlin’s tired, young face, and he gave him the moment of thought. There was only time for patience, as he lived his new life, taking his time, because he _could_.

“You saw everything?” The question came out harsh, but tentative at the same time, and Arthur worried his lip, not wanting his friend to believe he did not try to offer him so aid.

“I couldn’t do anything, you must know. There was nothing… I kept watching, seeing it all, and you have no idea how much I wanted to reach out. How often I tried to communicate to you, only succeeding a couple of times,”

Merlin’s eyebrows raised, and Arthur elaborated, recalling the moments, the fleeting moments his voice travelled through, but had gone unnoticed.

“I never knew,” the warlock sounded guilty, regretful, even, and Arthur immediately shook his head.

“Don’t,” he put up a hand. “You have suffered enough. I will not let you feel the guilt of this,”

“I wish I had _known,_ maybe I could have…”

“I know it is late, I know it is so many thousands of years late. That you have seen much, that you have travelled alone, which I wish had not been so. But, if you will accept me, I am here now.”

Merlin looked at him, as if he were stupid, and a small smile lit his face, “of course. Of course, Arthur, I accept you.”

And it was that smile, that hopeful smile, that made him glad to feel the beating of his heart, pumping the blood that helped him to stand, to live a new life.

_It’s times like these you give and give again_

There had been many questions, revelations, in the following days. Sometimes voices were raised, objects thrown (or, in Merlin’s case, flown), but they found themselves in the same place when the light fell, and only darkness was left. Neither dealt with the black alone, finding solace only in each other. Merlin showed Arthur his magic, the lights he could create inside, to reassure him that he would always be there, in light and in darkness. Arthur had kissed him softly, swearing he would do the same, in any way he could.

Some days, they woke, and did not mention anything. They chatted in a familiar way, insulted one another, done menial activities that reminded them that they were both very much alive. Merlin enjoyed showing Arthur some things he had not picked up when watching the world from above. His laugh, his real laugh, returned easily, when the king failed to grasp the most basic of concepts. Arthur would pout miserably, but there was something in his eye, that said he would keep trying, because he was here to stay.

“Will you tell me?” Arthur asked, muting the television; the film had been interesting, but Merlin had seen it before, and the body next to him arrested most of his attention. He would for the foreseeable future, really.

He turned to Arthur, as if he had not been staring at him anyway, and tilted his head in a questioning expression.

“Tell me, about your lives?”

“But you said, you’ve seen me.” His eyebrows burrowed, a little closed off, wary, as Arthur stared at him.

“Through my eyes, I have seen. I want to know what you have seen, through your own. I don’t want secrets here, now, between us.”

Merlin watched him carefully, Arthur’s eyes sad with the memories of their old life, and it was difficult to resist.

“There is a lot to tell,” he sighed, truthfully.

“There is time. All we have is time, now. I will not let it pass us blindly, but I will not let us rush through it. I want to hear everything you have to tell me, in your own time, because you can. Because I am _here,_ for as long as I wish to be.”

Merlin swallowed hard, “and how long is that?”

Arthur’s eyes fell, as if hurt, but they took on a hard, sincere light, “for as long as _you_ wish it to be.”

_It’s times like these you learn to love again_

There were days when no questions could be asked. When either Merlin or Arthur felt the weight of their destiny upon them, when they realised that they had lived just too damn long, that there should be nothing said. It was in this world, that Arthur was practicing being more open, to see more, to love more.

As he had watched from above, he regretted how much he had let Merlin believe he was alone, even when Arthur had walked beside him. There were moments, he saw, when the warlock just craved his attention, his touch, but Arthur had been blind and closed off. To caught up in his own life, to believe anybody could be living something worse.

Now, waking slowly, seeing Merlin already wide awake, eyes blank, deep in memories that could be from any of his lives, Arthur was unsure how to approach it. The warlock opened up as much as he could, but there were memories that could not yet be spoken, because he could not yet admit to himself that they had happened. The king understood, remembering those battles gone wrong, those raids that became massacres, those screams in the night. It was good to open up, to speak of the pain, but first one had to digest it themselves.

Wrapping his arms around carefully around the man, still skinny, because he had not learnt over the years how to eat well, apparently, Arthur offered him a gentle kiss in his hair as he pulled him closer. It could not be enough, but for now, it would suffice. Just to know that he had support, would help.

It was these days, when the rain fell, pattering against the window, making Arthur wonder if Merlin controlled it or the gods were crying for them both. They should cry, he thought, because they were the ones who had given them both this fate. Forced Merlin through the world to see the terrors he could never un-see, whilst taking the only friend he had from his grasp.

Arthur would coax him from the bed, though, knowing from his time away that Merlin would not have done so were he alone. He fed him, sat with him, chatted at him about unimportant things. Some days were worse than others. On a good day, Arthur might persuade him to lie together on the sofa together and watch a film. On a bad day, they would go to bed early, together, because Arthur did not want him to be alone.

Then, of course, there were his own bad days. Days he would dwell on his own miseries, his own mistakes. Memories of Morgana, of his father, of the knights and Gwen. He wondered, would they return, some day? If so, would he get a second chance with them, too? There had been no sign of them, though, and so he was left to wonder. Left to dream.

Merlin had done what he had always done, and take care of him. It made Arthur feel guilty, because it was so reminiscent of a past life where he had left Merlin to do everything, not always knowing the truth. Did Merlin mind, that he was still taking care of him? Or was it a burden?

“Did you expect I would be different?” He hears himself whisper, head in Merlin’s lap as the man stroked his fingers softly through his hair, Arthur finding comfort in the loving touch. In a touch that continued to remind him of both their beating hearts, of the blood pumping through their veins, showing them that they were still here, that they were back together. Sometimes, the thought scared him, and he wondered, what if he just was not enough for Merlin?

“What do you mean?” Merlin stared down at him seriously.

“Did you expect me to be stronger? To be a hero?”

Merlin did not speak for a time, and Arthur wondered if it were true, if he was going to say that yes, he had. But, he would have to make do, because he had waited for so long.

“Arthur, you were always strong. You still are,”

“I feel I’ve let you down,”

“You could never.” Merlin promised, “you’ve seen me in the same state, would you say I’m weak?”

“Of course not,” he did not hesitate. “But it’s not the same. You waited for so long, Merlin. Saw things that I cannot even comprehend. All I did was watch,”

“And that must have been torturous in its own way,” damn him for being so understanding. Too wise for his own good, as usual. “As a king, you saw similarly awful things, Arthur. You might get like this sometimes, but you pick yourself back up. You are strong, and a truly great man.”

There was a silence, before Arthur replied, “as are you.” 

_It’s times like these time and time again_

The clocks were still ticking, time still chipping away, but they refused to let it control them. There was a pressure, pushing him to go faster, to live his life with Arthur as quickly as he could before it disappeared in the blink of his eyes. His king would hold his hands in those moments, and they would sit in silence, because he did not want to rush.

“I saw you rush your life, all those years. You breezed by, helping people, but refusing to get closer.” Arthur said to him once, “as if going faster might bring my return faster.”

Merlin played with his sleeves, a red flushing up from his neck as he kept the peace, remembering that Arthur had come to him once, to tell him not to live alone.

“But I am here, now.” Arthur offered a kind smile.

“It wasn’t always time that stopped me,” Merlin admitted, ready to confess more of his life, to open more of his soul.

Arthur waited, and Merlin was grateful at his newfound patience with him.

“I lost so many people,” his eyes zoned away, losing themselves in all the memories, in all the times he had lived. “After you died, I returned to Camelot. There was nowhere else to go, but it never felt the same. And, when I returned, Percival found me, and he told me… Gwaine died, too.”

Arthur let out a sharp gasp, and Merlin realised he must not have seen much of the earlier days. Or he would have seen his devastation when Percival found him, stumbling back to Camelot, asking him where Arthur was. Reluctant to tell him about Gwaine, seeing the pain that Arthur’s death had caused, but Merlin had forced it out of him.

His legs fell then, too, when he heard. Percival grabbed him, holding him immediately, but there was no comfort his hold could grant. Nothing could replace the lives lost in the long war, the long lift Merlin had already lived to that point. He screamed into Percival’s chest, only afterwards wondering how the knight himself had been holding his own emotions. Once he had hoped somebody could have taught him that.

“I tried hard, to make a life. To make things work, but the curse of being immortal is to see every relationship you’ve built crumble around you as if it had been nothing. After Gwaine, after the wars, Gaius grew older.” The tears fell down his face slowly, silently, as he vowed to tell the story. “I stayed by him, and I watched the life leave his body peacefully. I found out that it didn’t matter, because it still _hurt_.”

“I am so sorry,” Arthur breathed out, his eyes glistening with his own unshed tears, and Merlin ducked his head.

“I couldn’t make a connection after that, because I could not feel that pain again.”

“I understand. I just… I wish it didn’t have to be that way.”

Merlin stayed quiet, letting Arthur offer him a comforting hug, the pressure of a loved one against him, warm, breathing, living, made him grateful that he had time with them. If Arthur wished to take it slow, he would, if it meant they could be happy in this life, in this time.

_I, I’m a new day rising_

Waking to the sunshine every day was a beautiful experience, one Arthur never thought he would learn to love. He remembers fondly those mornings Merlin would wake him, or try to, and Arthur would groan and grunt, refusing to bow to his wishes. Now, though, he found himself waking before the warlock.

It was pleasant, to wake before, to do sweet things that he had never fully understood in their past life. He had got so much wrong, then, but now was a new chance. It was an opportunity for him to show Merlin how much he cared. When the sun shone, burning in a bright blue sky, Arthur could not waste the opportunities. He could not waste the time, because it had been granted to him as a kindness, one he would be forever grateful for.

Waking the warlock kindly, he would keep the secrets of the day, as he only told him they were going outside. Unfortunately, this time, he meant only the garden. Today was the day he wanted Merlin to let loose with his magic, to show him everything he could have shown him a long time ago, had he been more open.

The world had changed its view on magic, but not in a positive way; nobody believed it anymore. Camelot was full of life, full of magic even if it was not supposed to be, and the differences were clear between his kingdom and the new world. This place was grey, lonely, strict; there was no allowance for something new here. It was disheartening to see that this was the world his friend had worked so hard to protect, to fight for.

Nevertheless, he ushered Merlin into the garden, where he had prepared a picnic of sorts. Most of it was whatever had been left in the cupboards, and he made a mental note to learn how to do this properly, one day. There was time to learn, though.

“Arthur, it’s…” Merlin sounded half confused, half amused, “it’s my leftovers.”

“Yes, well,” he shrugged. “I can’t do everything.”

Merlin laughed, a sweet sound that Arthur would never tire of hearing, and they sat and ate together in the bright sunlight, beaming down on them lovingly, warmly.

_I’m a brand new sky_

“You want me to show you my magic?” Merlin sounded sceptical, but Arthur looked more than positive as he nodded in response. “Are you sure?”

“You’ve kept it hidden for so long, only showing me little bits here and there. I want to see it, Merlin. I want to see your true power, I want to see _you_.”

The warlock’s eyes lit up, the sunlight shining off his eyes, as a tender smile spread across his face. To hear this, finally, was more than he could have ever asked for.

“Didn’t you see it, while you were watching me?”

Arthur rolled his eyes, huffing, “I want to see it here, now. I want you to show me, because you can.”

Merlin hesitated a moment longer, but caved soon, happy to oblige with his king’s pleasant wishes.

There were so many spells he learnt over the years, so many different skills, so many awe-inspiring powers, that he demonstrated to Arthur that afternoon. Having buried it so long, keeping it even more hidden as time carried on, fearful of what people might do to him, what they might think of him.

Lights flew across the garden, as he created a visual of the universe across the grass, showing Arthur the world that had been discovered while he was away. The king looked on with amazement, his jaw dropping at each spell, at every move Merlin made.

It felt good, it felt brilliant, to be seen. To show his skill to somebody who appreciated it, who trusted him with it, who asked to be shown. Merlin had never felt more alive since he had even first arrived at Camelot, experiencing a freedom he never believed he could.

Creating worlds in the palms of his hands, in Arthur’s. Then, as they settled down, the evening drawing in, he built a blanket around them, invisible to others, but showing the pair an image as they huddled together in the chill the evening brought.

“Is… is that…?” Arthur stuttered, emotionally.

Merlin offered a wet smile, their eyes meeting, as Arthur laughed, amazed.

“Camelot no longer looks the same, but if you want, you can see it whenever you want.”

Arthur stared, in complete awe, and Merlin felt his heart soar. Then, the king’s eyes came round to him, his eyes boring into him, as he smiled softly, “I still see Camelot, every day.”

Merlin smiled, but showed some confusion on his face.

“I see it in you. In your eyes, in your smile, in everything you do. _You_ are everything my kingdom was.”

_To hang the stars upon tonight_

They would rest together now, every night, and as the time ticked away, things were beginning to feel normal. They felt a routine, a familiarity, and Arthur was happy every time they were reminded of their past. Every time they said something that was just so _them,_ and they would stare at each other for a moment, aware of the familiarity, and they would give themselves a minute to bask in it.

They found themselves back together again, happy, and Arthur was settling into it. It was easy to grow comfortable in the routine, in this new life that could be similar to their old one. Yes, they had seen things that could never be forgotten, but they had each other now. They learnt to recognise when it could be a bad day. Arthur learnt the anniversaries Merlin kept, committing them to memory, to show that he cared.

Then, every night, they would end up united. Sleeping side by side, breathing in the presence of the other before drifting off to sleep. Some nights were bad, fraught with nightmares that could not be chased away. That required them to stay up together, either talking through it, talking about nothing, or sitting in silence. Merlin usually was silent, and while Arthur wished to know what tormented his mind so behind his lids, he respected the privacy. He knew it was not like before, when the magic had been kept, but a fair secret. All he needed to know was that he would be there Merlin when they hit, and Merlin would do the same for him.

Things were comfortable, and maybe he should have predicted, then, that this was what his destiny was leading him to. This moment, when things changed.

_I am a little divided_

Merlin had made sure Arthur already knew that the world he had entered was a changed one, and his king had told him he had seen everything mankind had endured and reaped upon each other. They had shared their hurt, seeing their kingdom split, the world splitting, and Merlin had complained often to Arthur about living through it, trying to offer help, to unite the people, but never knowing how.

Now, things were changing even more. The news was filled constantly, only with devastation. Illnesses were spreading once more, and Merlin could feel the panic rising through him. His breath caught, then quickened, and he clutched as his chest as he read the news day after day, things becoming worse and worse. The situation became darker and darker, and he saw how Arthur watched him. Checking him through the corner of his eye when he thought Merlin did not know. His attention might have been on the news, but he always saw.

Arthur helped him through the panic attacks, switching the news off, breathing with him in such a soothing way, Merlin wondered where he had picked it up from. A question for another day, perhaps. Right now, he had to remember to breath. Clutching Arthur’s hand as if his life depended on it, he managed to follow his instructions, his breath coming back to him slowly, painfully, reminding him cruelly just how alive he was.

_Do I stay or run away_

Arthur watched the events unfold, but not with the view he once had before. He could only see what the news showed, and even that was horrific. The situation was only getting worse as the days went on, people falling to the illness, the plague quickly, and if they did not catch that, they would catch the fear that it spread in its wake.

Merlin was having more nightmares, waking, in the middle of the night to Arthur shouting his name, in a cold sweat. He would clutch at Arthur’s clothes, begging to be pulled closer, but what reassurance he needed, the king could not provide, and it was killing him. His soul felt heavier than it ever had since his return, and all he could think about were the words the voice had spoken to him before he had been granted his wish to return.

The warlock would be needed by his side, so that they could both fulfil their duty of uniting the land and magic. But the world Arthur returned to was so full of distrust, of darkness, of disbelieving, that it made him fear how they could ever do such. Maybe in Camelot, where magic still existed, he might have been able to chip away at the laws forbidding it, but here? He had a bigger, harder role, that he was anxious to fulfil.

Staring at Merlin, the man who had wandered the earth waiting for him, believing he would return, believing that when he did, he would save them all, he felt his heart plummet. His hold of the man tightened, comforting himself, too, as he tried to be strong. How often had Merlin been strong for him? How often had Arthur gone astray, and Merlin brought him right back on track, reminding him of the strength he had inside.

He was afraid. Terrified, even. He had seen the plagues of much earlier days, in lesser developed times, and remembered Merlin wandering helplessly. Powerlessly. Offering what he could, but it could never be enough. Because… Because they were both needed.

And Arthur would not fail Merlin, not again.

_And leave it all behind?_

Terrifying memories filled his eyes, as he kept up with the progress and the spread of this new infection. He might have seen worse before, but he had not been prepared still to ever see it again. Each day came, each dawn rose, but his heart was sinking.

 _Not again_ , he would whisper to himself. Arthur was worried. About him, about the situation, about everything. Times had changed, but people had not. Some came together, but some cut ties, some were left isolated. As it needed to be contained, as it needed to be stopped, people were kept behind their own doors. It was a necessary step, but an isolating one.

Merlin had always kept to himself, and it was not this that worried him. He had seen too many plagues spread, knew how things could turn out if treated seriously enough… and not seriously enough. Taking deep breaths, he grounded himself, focusing on Arthur soothing him with his sweet nothings as he rubbed circles on his back.

“You saw me, during these times. You’ve seen.”

“I did,” Arthur nodded, solemnly. Merlin wondered what the sights had looked like up above. Were they as horrific as they were up close? “I saw you, helping, coping, coming out of the other side.”

Merlin sighed, a bone deep sigh, exhausted with the weight put on him. “I don’t know if I can do it again,” he breathed, rubbing his eyes. The eyes that had seen too much.

There had been so many plagues on the land, and each time, he had been left standing. It was painful, knowing he would never suffer as they did, knowing he could not die, but was destined to watch as so many others did.

Arthur said nothing for a moment, allowing the silence to continue, for Merlin to just focus on breathing. The warlock was grateful, tilting his head back as he stretched, his old, tired body remembering all of the scars within, physical and mental.

“You will not be alone anymore,” Arthur finally spoke, “I will help you in whatever it is we must do. We will get through this, we will do it together. I am forever your servant, Merlin.

_We make it better together we’ll make a better life_

It was heart warming to know that they were being watched by the gods. That they were aware this could not be done by two men alone, no matter how important they were, once had been. So, when the world’s need was greatest, the gods sent them a gift to aid them. Several, in fact.

Leon returned first; his knock on the door had confused Arthur at first, considering people were separated. He was glad he opened it though, at first barely able to breathe, let alone speak. The knight stood there, waiting for Arthur to gather himself, but then pushed his way into the house when it appeared the king might take a while. Arthur followed him through, watching Merlin smash a plate when he caught sight of Leon, standing in his living room, with a look that suggested they should know why he was there.

Percival’s arrival was only a few minutes later, meaning that they had not had time to quiz Leon on how he had got there, and why. The big man was politer than the first, surprising Arthur, as he waited to be invited in. At that point, Arthur had simply waved an arm inside, still unable to speak as he poked his head out the door, watching to see if any more of his soldiers might appear on the doorstep.

They gathered in the living room, Arthur somehow finding the voice in him to take charge. To ask why they were here, when they had come. They did not know exactly how they had returned, only that a fierce voice had guided them here, ordering them to find The Once and Future King and the sorcerer, to offer any help they might need in their duty. Arthur felt like he must know the voice they were talking about, wondering if he was still watching them from the clouds.

Arthur held Merlin tightly that night, sharing the tears of happiness, of confusion, as their knights slept downstairs, trying to get used to this new world. He pressed a kiss into Merlin’s hair, a strange laugh falling out of his mouth. Once he started, neither he nor Merlin could stop, and he hoped his friends downstairs could not hear their hysterical sounds. 

Elyan came the next day, ready to explain, but seemed a little annoyed that two knights had already returned first. Arthur shook his head fondly, the tears brimming in his eyes again as he pulled his arm around the knight’s neck, pulling him into a hug before directing him into the living room where they sat, laughing, joking.

Gwaine was the next arrival, and Arthur watched Merlin rush into his friend’s arms. The knight stayed standing, despite the force Merlin hugged him with, and offered a joke, but wrapped his own arms tightly around the man in comfort. The king smiled sadly, wondering how many years’ sadness this might take from Merlin. It would not take away the pain of the news of Gwaine’s death, as Arthur’s return did not, but it could offer him some comfort, being with him now. Being with them all, now. When Lancelot came, too, Merlin reacted the same, his reaction breaking Arthur’s heart just a little more, hurting him that he had not been there to comfort him when his friends passed.

Arthur continued watching the door, wondering if anybody else might return. A soft knock on the door grabbed his attention quickly, and he rushed over. Gwen looked unchanged, if a little tenser, though it was all understandable. Sharing a gentle hug, he ushered her into the house, now brimming with people, each chatting about their different experiences. Gwen gave Merlin a tender hug, causing more of his tears to fall, and Arthur hoped it was more pain leaving him. Arthur hoped their arrival would aid them, as they were sent for.

_Because the pressure is ever upon us every night_

“Arthur,” Merlin bit his lip, stood at the end of the bed, watching Arthur ready himself to sleep, having sorted sleeping arrangements for their risen friends.

“Yeah?” He replied, not looking up.

“Arthur,” he spoke more sternly, his lips thinning as his foot tapped against the floor.

The king picked his head up, his eyes searching him, searching his eyes, as he easily read the warlock’s nervous energy. “What is it?”

“I don’t know if I can do this,” he threw his hands up, emotions fried. There had been so much happening, so much going on in his own house, let alone outside. But there was little time to process everything, to appreciate his friends’ reappearance, because he knew they were brought back with a purpose.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t do it.” His eyes went wide in frustration, fear, anger, “I can’t do whatever it is I’m supposed to.”

“Merlin,” Arthur sighed, standing up, Merlin reading his exhaustion. Was he tired of him worrying? Was he tired of him complaining about this situation?

“I can’t do it!” He slammed his foot down, stopping Arthur moving closer. The king stepped back, surprised, eyes cautious. Arthur put his hands up, to soothe, but the energy in Merlin was only just building, bubbling up, needing to escape him. “They’ve all come back, for me. For my destiny, whatever I need to do this time. What happens, Arthur, if I can’t do it? If I fail, as I did before? You have so much faith in me, but what if it’s misplaced? You died, Arthur, because of _me_!”

A fire lit up in his eyes, and he knocked something over unconsciously. Arthur turned to look at what had been thrown, but Merlin kept still, very still, in case he turned and could no longer stay standing.

He breathed, watching Arthur; the other man stood silently, as he always did now. _Say something_ , he wanted to shout. But he had more to say, “If I fail, will I have to watch you all die again? As you did before? As all those in the past have, that I ever tried to help?”

The silence lasted longer, this time. Merlin wanted to say more, but he was so tired, and he wondered what more there was to say. He stared at Arthur, his Once and Future King, who watched him sadly, waiting for the all clear to approach. Flicking his eyes down, he granted it, weak in the knees, worried he might fall if there was nobody there to catch him.

Arthur was at his side in an instant, though, because he would never leave him, he had sworn. Hands were guiding him carefully to the bed, sitting him on the edge with a gentleness Arthur showed to nobody else. Beside him, the bed dipped, as the king dropped himself beside the broken warlock, letting him lean on him. Allowing him to find comfort in their closeness, when he felt so drained, so weak.

“Do you remember when I asked you if you thought I was weak? When I feared images I saw behind my eyes, images no longer real?” Arthur whispered, and Merlin’s eyes floated up to catch what sight of the man he could. He stared straight ahead, remembering the moment.

Merlin hummed half-heartedly in response.

“Do you remember when Camelot was taken, and I lost all hope every time? You were there, by my side, as you were that night, being the only one to show true faith. I always remember those moments, Merlin, when I feel weakest.”

“You’re a great king, Arthur. But what am I? The most powerful warlock, who failed in his destiny.” He closed his eyes, keeping them lightly shut, breathing deeply through his nose.

He felt Arthur grasp his hand, as he continued, “it wasn’t you. I failed. I failed you, Merlin. I should have legalised magic long ago, before you ever told me. You could only ever tell me if I had shown you I was trustworthy, but I didn’t. You did not fail, but I did.”

“You couldn’t know,”

“Do not justify my mistakes, Merlin. We must acknowledge them, and find a way forward. Use them to pave that path, and find our faith again.”

“What if it’s too far gone? What if I can’t find it anymore?”

“Then I will have double, for now. I will hold all the faith you need, until you’re ready to accept it. Until you see your true worth, my love.”

_And every day so we pray and we will forever fight_

Arthur watched Merlin pull himself back, bit by bit, piece by painful piece. Nothing could erase what he had seen these past lives of his, but this time, things could be different. Together, they could come fight whatever came their way, and Merlin would not face destiny alone. If they were to fail, they would go down together, but the king was determined to see no such failure. No, these days would be gruelling, but they would be won. Victory would be man’s, and happiness would return to the isolated and the desolate.

In that house, they laughed, they cried, over memories of past lives, explaining new ones. It took a few days to show the knights how to work things on this new world, but once they got it, their joy was clear to see. Both Merlin and Arthur, now walking this earth with ease, did not fail to tease the others, though, when they made some strange mistake.

Of course, Gwaine took it hard when he found out taverns still existed, but were closed. Arthur pretended to roll his eyes, but shared a laugh with the others when the knight decided they must get to work right away if he were to have a drink. So, they planned their new life. They planned their new fight, new battle plan, each step, making sure it was absolutely fool proof, before celebrating.

That night, the night before they would face their destiny, they celebrated. They drank to their lives, old and new, and to one another. Most of all, to Merlin, their most loyal servant. The man who had dragged them all from death, because it was only him they had been brought back for. Arthur begged only to return for him, nothing else. Merlin would face his destiny, but he would no longer face it alone.

_It’s times like these you learn to live again_

Merlin began by helping the people, those suffering most. At first, he could only help those at home, in secret, before the full plan could go ahead. Over the years, his medical skills had advanced, enough that he could provide comfort for those severely in need. They worried for him, asking if he was not at risk. Even if he was, he would not stand by and watch people suffer worse. He had faced so many plagues in his lives past, the worst thing was their pleading eyes, and he would never refuse the help.

While Arthur and the knights followed through their part of the plan, Gwen aided Merlin, as he travelled from street to street, town to town, offering what help he could. If he was able, symptoms would be eased with some of his magic, easing the way through the illness. Patients would recover soon, and he left with a smile, happy that for once, he could aid them, knowing he had support. Knowing that if somebody might accuse him of something, there was a support system to fall back on. Those working hard, right now, to unite the people from their homes.

Gwen and Merlin tried to do so, too, bringing food and supplies to those in desperate need, unable to leave their homes. The thanks they received made them both teary eyed, and they continued until their feet were red sore from walking all day, dawn until dusk. Still, a smile found its way on his face, as he wondered, perhaps he might not fail. Perhaps there was hope to be had, in this scary world.

_It’s times like these you give and give again_

Arthur was honestly surprised, but did not question it. Working with the knights, he found his platform. He knew there were knew systems in place now, new monarchs, parliaments, that it might not work to storm in and announce he would be taking over now. Oh, not that he would not love to do that. But, that would come later. Now, in the midst of crisis, he had to find a way to take some control, to unite the lands, as he was destined to.

He found that working through art, through television, through the internet, could work. People were connected at the end of their fingertips, and they needed to fully embrace it. One day, they would step outside and embrace, but now, there were still ways to come together.

His messages broadcast throughout the kingdom: be hopeful, do not let the darkness envelope you, because there will be light soon enough. For now, be kind, be hopeful, and love one another. As a king, he dealt with great casualties, and great pain in his people. It hurt him as much as them, knowing he was powerless, but also with the knowledge that his people were resilient. They would find it hard, yes, but they would come out of this. It was going to be painful, but he would guide them through it, he would be by them. This was what he was destined to do, and he would follow his orders to the letter.

_It’s times like these you learn to love again_

Merlin beamed, free, properly. His magic ignited in the sky, colours swirling all over for everyone to see. Things were still uncertain, but there was always light to help people through. His eyes lit a familiar gold, burning into him, as he created hopeful images across the sky. Playing out scenes for the people watching, with nothing else to do, but to stare at the magic man.

He wondered, would they believe his magic? Or, once this was over, would they deny it? It scared him to think they could, but he could not be fearful. He could feel his anxieties, but he would be hopeful for the days ahead. Because there were always days ahead, there was always time. To show the people, he sped up the clouds across the bright blue sky, showing how fast time could fly, before bringing them to go slower, he showed how things could feel like they would never end.

That feeling was something he felt all to familiar with, walking the years for thousands of years, waiting, watching. Sometimes there had been days he wanted to give in, wondering if Arthur could ever really return. Thousands of years, trudging across the earth, seeing torture after torture.

But, there had been beautiful moments, too. Mankind could be cruel, but they were inventive, too. They were imaginative, and emotional, and the world he witnessed had grown so huge, it made him dizzy to think about sometimes.

Smiling, he continued his display, as he would do for the days to come. Until things might be calm, until people no longer needed his assurances, but not a moment sooner. More and more people came out to see each day, each week, and he felt his heart beating faster with each passing day.

_It’s times like these time and time again_

They lay in bed together, close, the heat radiating from the other as their bodies pressed together, like they were always meant to fit like so. Arthur buried his nose deeper into Merlin’s hair, taking in the pleasant scent he never wanted to forget. His eyes caught the sunshine beaming out the sides of the dark red curtains hiding the view, and he let a smile light his face. A new day had come, a better day.

It was all slow, and not as nearly as huge as everyone might have imagined. Things happened gradually, but eventually, they went back to normal. People left their homes without fear, and there were smiles worn by many. Some cried, with the sadness of a loss, with happiness, sometimes with every emotion. Arthur liked to observe it from the ground, rather than above, because he could see everything so clearly here. Grabbing Merlin’s hand, they shared a smile.

“Is this what you see as a failure?” He asked, his voice whispering into the warlock’s hair, aware he was just as awake.

“I don’t know I’d call it a success,” Merlin moved his head, making Arthur regret speaking as the warlock moved back a little, trying to flick his eyes up to look at his king.

Arthur hummed. The people had united, magic had begun to open their hearts and their minds, and for the first time, the king felt like he understood his destiny, knowing what Camelot could have been, what he now had to create here, uniting the people. There would still be a long way to go, but they had chipped away and there had been some success. Still, where there was victory in battle, it was usually hollow.

“We will not forget,” he spoke resolutely, “nobody will forget. We cannot.”

“I know,”

“At least there is a little less loneliness, now.”

“Yes,” Merlin leaned into Arthur, smiling, “I feel, for the first time, properly, the warmth of friends.”

Arthur kissed his forehead softly, “and we have the time to enjoy the company.” 

The time would wait. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone’s doing okay, but if you’re not, please know that you are not alone right now. The world is a strange place at the best of times, but all we can do is stick together, support one another, even cry together! 
> 
> Fanfiction has been getting me through the most of it, as I’m getting used to the new world we’re in, settling in for the long haul. I hope it’s providing some comfort to all of you, even if it’s not my fic! It’s great that we have this to come to, at least, during this time. 
> 
> Stay safe, everyone!


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